


Spot On

by TheseusInTheMaze



Series: Cheetah Master [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Animal Traits, Cheetah!Master - Freeform, Cunnilingus, F/M, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27987276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: “Doctor,” he said, & there was an odd cadence to his voice, a rumbling undertone. “Do you remember that planet? That dusty, open planet, that smelled of sun & grass?” He was advancing towards her now, & his eyes, slit pupiled, were narrowing.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Series: Cheetah Master [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2065884
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	Spot On

**Author's Note:**

> There is no artistic merit to be taken from this - it is just _horny_. I also haven't actually seen _Survival_ , so please forgive any mistakes in reference to it.

She didn’t really realize anything strange was going on until he broke out in spots.

They were proper spots, too, running up and down his arms, and she paused what she’d been doing (what _had_ she been doing?) to peer down at his arms, bared where he’d rolled his sleeves up. She wasn’t even thinking when she grabbed his arm and prodded one, until he pulled it away and snarled at her. 

Snarled at her with surprisingly _sharp_ teeth, come to think of it, and... yes, his eyes had changed too. 

Well. 

_Had_ he been acting differently lately? Mostly she ignored him, since he suffered in her direction or sulked in her direction or made diabolical plans that ended up crumbling before he could start to try to bring them to fruition. She’d been keeping to the TARDIS lately, it was true, and most of that keeping to the TARDIS involved a lot of maintenance sorts of things, but… well. 

He hadn’t done anything particularly homicidal lately, although now that she thought about it. He’d been running around the one indoor track in somewhat hypnotic circles, until his chest heaved and his legs trembled. She didn’t _understand_ it, but she hadn’t understood when he’d gone around counting all the spoons in all the kitchens of the TARDIS, or why he’d thrown himself into learning to make every single recipe in the one ancient recipe book that she’d had in the library.

The corkscrewing labyrinth of his mind, full of dead ends, blind alleys, and boobytraps, sometimes brought him odd places. She didn’t question it - she supplied him with the (non-lethal) things he needed for whatever it was, and was grateful that it kept him out of trouble and (more or less) out of her hair.

He still crawled into bed with her sometimes, still clutched at her and cried into her neck, or rutted against her thigh. She wasn’t sure if he was getting… better, per se, but at least he wasn’t trying to kill her in her sleep or take over the myriad universes. 

She’d take what she could get, at this point. 

“Doctor,” he said, and there was an odd cadence to his voice, a rumbling undertone. “Do you remember that planet? That dusty, open planet, that smelled of sun and grass?” He was advancing towards her now, and his eyes, slit pupiled, were narrowing. 

She held her ground, staring into his face. There were… yes, those were the beginnings the dramatic lines that lined a cheetah’s face, under his eyes and along his nose. “Are you -”

“I don’t know,” he said, and he was standing so close to her that his breath was gusting across her face, hot as the wind across a desert plane. “It seems to be back.” He held his hands up, framing his face like he was on stage, and that would have been a good life for him, wouldn’t it? All those theatrics, finally being used for something to bring people joy instead of endless suffering. 

Maybe she was going poetic in her old age. Or just senile. 

“There’s a disease on Earth,” said the Doctor, and she squinted into his face. “It’s called chicken pox. And even once it’s gone, it still -”

“I don’t _care_ about some stupid Earth disease,” he snarled, and there was a proper feline twist to that.

“You will _not_ interrupt me,” she snapped back, and she jabbed him in the chest with her index finger. “You want to be a stroppy git and walk around with a face like a slapped arse, that’s your prerogative. But you will respect my TARDIS and you will respect me. Is that clear?” 

His lips were still drawn back in a snarl, and she kept glaring at him, until he gave an awkward little nod. 

“There’s something called shingles, which is from chicken pox, and I think maybe you have the… equivalent. We should probably get you checked out in the med bay.” She brought a hand up to his arm, a little more tentative this time, and this time he let her touch him without growling, although he was still trembling. 

His skin was warmer than usual, and there was the usual coating of thin, wiry hair. Was it… lighter than usual? She squinted at it, leaning further, until her nose was almost touching the skin. She could smell him, familiar as her own scent, and there was… an undertone. 

Hm.

The Doctor licked him, and she tried to analyze whatever it was that tasted different. Something… sharp. Something. She licked again, and then she caught him looking at her. 

“What?” She wrinkled her nose.

“Could you maybe _not_?” He was shaking, just a bit. She wasn’t sure from what, but something about the look in his eyes was making her… nervous. 

“Sorry,” she said absently, although she didn’t mean it. “Doesn’t _seem_ to be dangerous, although I’ll have to run a proper scan to check.”

“Are you quite through?” He was still glaring. 

“Nope,” she said, and she stood up straight. “How did you manage to break out in spots but not fur? Does that mean that the spots are _under_ the fur?”

“This is humiliating,” he groused, as she prodded one of the spots. 

“You’ve done weirder and more humiliating,” she said. “How deep do the spots go?”

“When you put it like _that_ you make it sound like you’re going to skin me,” he said. “Why do _I_ have the reputation of being the bad guy?”

“Because you’ve tried to take over the universe more times than I’ve got fingers, toes, and teeth,” she said, prodding another spot.

He took her hand in his, and there was a tense moment. _Is he going to try to shove me away again?_

And then he pressed his forehead against hers, and he rubbed his cheek against hers. There was a rumble going through his chest, and it made her own teeth vibrate. It was a little doofy, honestly, and he was pressing closer to her, still… was that purring?

“Are you -” 

“Not a word,” he grumbled, and he rubbed his chin against her forehead, still purring. 

“But -”

“No,” he snapped, and then she saw the familiar fire in his eyes. 

_Maybe the cheetah virus is mellowing him out_ , she thought, as his hands clumsily fumbled with her breasts and his mouth nipped at her own. _Cheetahs aren’t exactly known for being aggressive._

He nipped at her mouth, nipped at her ear, and then he was pushing her against the wall. She planted her feet to keep from being shoved any more, and then she hissed through her teeth, as his teeth sank into her shoulder through her shirt. 

“I _like_ this shirt,” she said, and he growled at her. 

She snarled back, which didn’t work as well - didn’t have the virus manipulating all the various mechanisms to make the proper noises, and he looked more amused than annoyed. 

“Really? You’re going to try that?” He nipped at her face, and she hissed, burying her fingers in his hair as he kissed up her neck. He was nudging his leg between hers, and she hissed through her teeth as it ground against her cunt, forcing the seam of her trousers against her clit. 

“I’ll try anything once,” she said, and then he growled again. 

She growled back, and she shifted them around, so that his back was against the wall. He stared at her, with those strange golden eyes, and she kissed him in spite of herself, even as his claws shredded her shirt. Arousal was pooling inside of her, from the proximity of him, the memories of all their past dalliances. It was good, to have a form, to live in her body and let it love her in all the ways it could, with pleasure and sensation and even little bits of pain. 

Everything took on a dreamlike haze after that - his tongue in her mouth, her fingers raking down his sides, his claws fumbling with her trousers - she didn't let him rip those. But at some point, she ended up on the table, her legs spread, and he was between them.

His tongue seemed… .longer, and that was probably due to the virus, and really, she needed to check if she needed to worry about catching it _herself_ , come to think of it, but… oh, it was hard to care, when he was licking her like that. His tongue was rougher than usual, and his nose was up against her clit, kneading at her hips, her thighs. 

He was purring, and the vibration was a little bit like sitting on top of a… a thing that vibrated, and she really _was_ having trouble coming up with similes right now, but she was having trouble coming up with much of anything beyond maybe _yes_ , and maybe _a little to the right_ , as his tongue swirled inside of her, his thumb pressing into her clit just this side of too hard. The stubble on his face was going to leave her perineum tender and her thighs raw, and his claws were drawing little pinpricks of blood on her hips, but _oh_. Her hips were rocking up to meet every swipe of his tongue, and her heels were digging into his back as he licked and _licked_ , until she was seeing new, unknown stars behind her eyes. 

She came grinding against his face, his tongue still buried inside of her, and when he pulled back to lick his lips, there was a remarkably smug look on his face. Or maybe it was more cheetah. Cats really had a way of capturing smug, didn’t they?

She didn’t say anything as he fumbled with his own trousers, just watched, but she winced when he grew frustrated with the buttons and just ripped them open. “TARDIS is gonna have to repair those for ya, y’know,” she said. 

He glared at her, his cock standing proud between the tails of his shirt, and he grabbed her by the ankle. “Get on the floor,” he said, and his voice was getting more gravely as he dragged her off of the table. She landed on her feet, and then he was shoving her onto her belly on the table, her backside up in the air. She spread her thighs, and then she winced, as he jabbed along her thighs with the hot, wet length of his cock, smearing across and mingling with her own wetness.

The Doctor sighed, as he shoved it into her, and he gasped, draping himself over her back. The buttons of his shirt were pressing into her back, the fabric sticking with her sweat and his sweat. She ached to feel his skin against her own, but that would involve too much maneuvering, and his cock was sliding in and out of her with such slick, easy strokes that it would be too much effort to try to fix any of that now.

It wasn’t the first time they’d had sex. It wasn’t even the first time they’d had sex in these bodies, in her TARDIS. There was still that shock of having someone else inside of her, the living heat of him as she clenched around him, the way his hearts beat against her back as he rutted into her. He wasn’t exactly growling, but he wasn’t exactly purring, and his teeth kept nipping at her neck, her shoulders. 

He seemed to have learned his lesson about biting too hard, at least, because he was being gentle with his teeth - or as gentle as he could be, with those teeth. He kissed and licked along her neck as he moved, and the frenzied, desperate movement had actually slowed down from his usual mad dash. 

He rolled his hips into her, and she gasped and clenched around him, clutching at the table. His cock was stroking deep inside of her, stimulating some internal bits of her clit, and then her own hand was between her legs, rubbing the external bits of her clit, and she humped back against him, her breath noisy in her ears. 

_At least he doesn’t have spines on his cock_ , she thought, and then she stopped thinking, because he’d covered her hand with his, and he was using just enough pressure to make her toes curl and her whole body tense. She was clenching around him more tightly now, and he was making desperate little chirps and growls that went through his whole chest, making her skin buzz. 

She came in a burst of pleasure electricity down her nerves, her cunt clenching around him rhythmically, and he choked as he pushed himself all the way inside of her. There was a wash of heat inside of her as he came, and then he was flopping against her, his cock still twitching. 

He bumped his forehead against her shoulder, and he was rumbling again, the rusty purr rattling across her back and buzzing through her chest cavity. _As calm as this is keeping him_ , she thought idly, as his stubbly cheek rubbed against his shredded shirt, _it’d be a shame to turn him back._

“You’re not quiet when you think,” he mumbled, but he didn’t sound particularly peeved. More tired. 

“Never claimed to be,” she said lightly. “We should get you to the med bay.” She didn’t move, as he gently mouthed at her neck. 

“In a minute,” he said, and the purring grew a little louder. She’d need to get up soon, but… she could stay here. Just for a little bit.

**Author's Note:**

> I will admit I was bribed to write this, but it was also a ton of fun to write. Hope y'all enjoyed it!


End file.
